


Neck Cramps

by ErisDea



Series: Neck Cramps [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enthrallment, Horror, Memory Alteration, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Supernatural Elements, Vampire!Steve, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 17:03:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8409613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisDea/pseuds/ErisDea
Summary: “Hold still and stay quiet,” the captain says before leaning in, his face pressing against the curve of her neck, his hands sliding around to hold her against him.Darcy goes hot and weak at the contact, an alarmed sound escaping her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: This isn't just dubious consent, this is NON-CONSENT. Steve totally did _NOT_ have permission to drink Darcy's blood, but he did it anyway, and erased her memory of it afterwards. Please note the tags!
> 
> And no, idk why I wrote this either. I just found it in my Halloween folder and dusted it off. (I'm feeling guilty about taking my sweet time with epic romance (writer's block *cries*), so here have some hugs, candy and guilt-induced ficlets.)

Darcy doesn’t have to turn around to know that someone else has stepped into the communal kitchen, their feet soundless against the laminated floor. She won’t know who it is without turning around, of course, but the sensation of goose bumps forming on her skin tells her that it’s not Jane or Erik or Thor. Wanda and Vision don’t elicit this reaction from her either.

She’s not entirely sure what it is about the other Avengers—and Pepper Potts too—that makes her feel skittish, but they do. Make her feel skittish, she means.

Perhaps it’s the way they seem to be constantly watching her, almost-but-not-quite like they’re suspicious of her motives or something. And, okay, she’s a PoliSci graduate who abandoned her future as a lawyer to be the research assistant of a world renowned astrophysicist, who incidentally is the girlfriend of the Norse god of thunder, who is now also a part of a world renowned extraordinary team of superheroes. She’s a Nobody who knows Somebody-s and maybe they think she’s here for bragging rights. Maybe they think she’s here hoping to become Somebody too, that she’s after celebrity status or some shit like that.

She’s not, by the way. If it has to be anything like that, then maybe she stays out of professional curiosity. Well, not _professional_ , because her career has become more hard-science-related than she’d planned on. Still, she does have an interest in observing the Asgardian government, in seeing the differences and similarities between them and the ‘Midgardian’ way of ruling. Asgardians may look they come from a barbarian-like society, but between their technology and their millennia-long status as protectors of the Nine Realms, they’ve gotta be doing _something_ right, right? And that’s just her scratching the surface of it all too.

Anyway, so there. If they want a reason, that can be it.

Honestly though? Darcy’s here for one simple reason:

 _She doesn’t know where else to go_.

An ironic sentiment, considering she’s type of person who had her whole life planned out from a young age. Plan A was becoming a lawyer, like her father had been, and then running for office until she could become a senator, like her grandfather had been. She was going to pass bills that would make the country a better place, and then strive to nab that illustrious seat in the Oval Office, so she could end wars and work to make the whole damn _world_ a better place too.

Failing that, she was going to be a teacher like her mother had been, educating and influencing young minds in the hopes that _they_ can help make the world a better place.

Of course, you know what they say about plans: they don’t last long after you discover aliens are real and were revered as gods by the early Norsemen, and they’re especially obliterated into smithereens after you learn you electrocuted the god of thunder.

Darcy, zero; irony, one.

And like, how does she get over that? How can she go back to school and graduate and go on living a normal life when she knows there’s more to the universe than she’d expected?

She doesn’t, obviously.

Oh, she’d tried to, of course; had gone back to get her diploma and gone to work as an intern in her uncle’s law firm, but Darcy hadn’t lasted two weeks before she packed her bags and returned to Jane and Erik. It was just too big, _she_ just felt too big, like a tall person standing in the middle of a sea of short people, with a neon sign pointing to her head saying _I KNOW SOMETHING YOU DON’T, OMG WE’RE NOT ALONE IN THE UNIVERSE, WHY DON’T YOU KNOW THAT?????_

She thinks she should blame SHIELD for that one. Maybe if they hadn’t made her sign NDAs and blackmailed her into keeping her silence, she could’ve gone back home without having to lie every time someone asked her how New Mexico had treated her and if she’d been bored the whole time and if she would maybe recommend going on vacation there. (She could’ve said yes, because ideally, lightning doesn’t strike at the same place twice, but she’d met the god of thunder and maybe lightning would do that if he told it to, so she thought _why risk it?_ and just shrugged noncommittally.)

But whatever right? It’s done, she’s here, and barring someone kicking her out, she’s here to stay.

Still, that doesn’t solve her problem of feeling restless when one, two, more or all of the Avengers are around, shooting her unreadable looks that never fail to chase her out of the room, something she’d do right now if she wasn’t in the middle of picking out the ingredients for pancakes.

“Hello, Miss Lewis,” comes the now-familiar voice of Captain ‘call me Steve’ America, right before he says his name (“Steve Rogers”) to the voice-lock that keeps the row of special, Avengers-only drawers sealed. (Incidentally, the only Avengers she’s ever noticed opening said drawers are the ones that make her feel awkward. Coincidence? Maybe. She doesn’t know them well enough to make an accurate judgment call on that.)

“Hello, Captain Rogers,” she replies politely, and then adds, “I’m about to make pancakes if you want some,” even though she knows he’ll never take her up on it.

None of the ones who get their food from the locked drawers ever do.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, just as she knew he would. “Thank you though.”

The sound of one of the drawers hissing open fills the air, soon followed by the crinkling sound of several of the silver packs inside being retrieved. The drawer then beeps as Captain America closes it, indicating that it’s locked again.

“Bye,” she says, knowing he’ll be gone just as abruptly as he appeared.

“Bye,” he replies, and moments later, the restless feeling inside her starts to slowly fade away.

Darcy exhales, relaxing.

“Turn around and look me in the eye.” She yelps and whirls around, the sudden sound surprising her so much that she complies thoughtlessly, meeting a blue, _blue_ gaze. “ _Hold still and stay quiet_ ,” the captain says before leaning in, his face pressing against the curve of her neck, his hands sliding around to hold her against him.

Darcy goes hot and weak at the contact, an alarmed sound escaping her. It joins the deep, longing groan he makes, and Darcy doesn’t understand why she isn’t moving away or protesting his sudden proximity to her.

 _Hold still and stay quiet_ , he’d said, and Darcy feels her insides yawn open in horrifying suspicion.

“You smell so good,” Captain America murmurs, and it feels like Darcy’s brain goes on the fritz. “Why d’you hafta smell so damn good?”

Her mouth falls open when she feels hard, sharp points scrape over her skin, but even when Captain America bites down and tears into flesh, Darcy still can’t find her voice, still can’t bring herself to scream.

The captain moans happily and starts to suck at the wound he’d inflicted, one hand sliding into her hair to tilt her head and make room for him. Darcy feels her eyes burn with tears, her sobs so quiet she can barely hear herself as she tries to digest the fact that Captain America is an actual vampire. It doesn’t compute, _at all_ , and making peace with what’s happening fills her head just enough to distract her from the horror of being drained of her blood.

She’s not sure how long it lasts, but thankfully, Captain America eventually stops sucking and licking her neck. “God, I’m so sorry,” he says quietly against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry…”

Darcy can feel the sincerity of his apology, but she’s too terrified and angry to accept it. Also, she _can’t_ , because whatever he did is still affecting her.

Finally, he pulls back, and Darcy is able to see the deep red of his eyes and the blue veins lining his face and neck. His mouth—his _fangs_ —are stained red with her blood. The urge to throw up has never been stronger than right now, particularly when he slides his index finger against one of his sharp canines, tearing into his own flesh.

“ _Drink_ ,” he tells her, holding his bloody finger up to her lips. Darcy does as she’s told, gagging slightly at the thick taste of pennies sliding down her throat. “There you go. _Stop_.” She pulls back and heaves, disgusted and horror-struck. “ _Calm down now. Just relax. You’re okay. You’re gonna forget all about what I did to you. I didn’t come back. You’ve just been making pancakes this whole time. Just turn around and get back to it_.”

Darcy frowns into the fridge. What was she getting again?

She bends lower, then winces as she tilts her head, lifting a hand to rub the tender spot that makes itself known to her. Neck cramps again. Why did she keep getting these damn things?

**Author's Note:**

> I could see myself going places with this fic, but like, it'd be DARK places, yanno? Idk, should I?
> 
> Tell me what you thought =D *crosses fingers, hopes for good comments* (I'd totally understand if you found this more disturbing than what you're comfortable with, tho =P)


End file.
